Broken
by BadBadZoot
Summary: A week after the encounter with the djinn and Sam is worried. Dean has withdrawn completely. After a nearly fatal encounter, Sam decides to try and get through to Dean. Can he reach his brother? Warning:Wincest


_Author's Note: This is the first story I've posted on Fanfic. I have a couple at LJ including a spicer version of this one. Please be gentle with me._

_Disclaimer: Sam and Dean belong entirely to Mr. Kripke and company._

"You want to stop here?" Sam said, looking across the seat at Dean.

Dean shrugged.

"Maybe have dinner at a restaurant rather than in the room?" he persisted.

Shrug.

"We could play some darts tonight."

Shrug.

Sam sighed, in the week since he'd rescued Dean from the djinn, his brother had gotten increasingly silent and withdrawn. Dean was never really open, but he'd closed down so tightly, Sam rarely glimpsed his brother at all. The small gestures of affection—a slap on the back, a smack on the head, leaning against Sam when they talked, those had been withdrawn as well. Sam never realized how much that contact meant, until it was completely gone.

When they checked in to the motel, Dean would disappear to the bathroom, reappearing a hour or more later, then the TV would come on. No words, no conversation, nothing but silence. And the silence dragged on more and more.

Sam pulled into a restaurant, Dean trailed him in and sat at the table, looking everywhere but at Sam. They ordered and Dean spent the meal looking at his plate. He just picked at the burger and fries and sipped at his coke. When Sam was finished, Dean abandoned the half-eaten burger and followed Sam silently out of the restaurant.

And so the evening went. Dean disappeared to the bathroom and Sam opened the computer, looking for a little more information on the hunt. The hauntings had started five years before and on the night of the fifteenth, someone would disappear. Usually they reappeared several days later, confused, unable to remember what had happened or where they had been. But not always. Three people had died.

The bathroom door opened. Sam looked over at Dean. "You want to get going? We need to be there at midnight."

Shrug.

Sam got the keys and walked to the car, he heard Dean close the door to the room. Sam got into the driver's seat and looked at Dean as he slid into the other side. The fact his brother had stopped driving his beloved car was weighing heavily on Sam. Something was seriously wrong. Sam decided that as soon as they were back to the room they would talk about it. Whether Dean wanted to or not.

"You head around back, okay?" Sam said as he pulled up in front of the farmhouse. Dean shrugged an acknowledgement and got out of the car. Dean walked to the back and waited by the trunk until Sam opened it and handed him a shotgun and the shells full of rock salt. "Look for anything that's holding it here, Dean."

"Hunted long enough to know that shit, Sam," Dean growled and headed around the back of the house.

Sam walked up the front steps, the house had been abandoned since the first death five years before. He opened the door and walked inside, turning on his flashlight and shining it around the room. Dust sparkled in the beam, but nothing else was moving. He could hear Dean's footsteps at the back on the house. Sam looked at the picture over the fireplace, shining the light along the edges looking for anything that might be holding an angry spirit trapped in the house. Dean's shout of surprise broke the silence.

Sam ran towards his brother's voice. Dean was in a small room off the kitchen. It might have been a pantry, shelves lined the wall. Sam could see a black shadow in front of his brother. Dean's hands were slack at his sides, his eyes open, staring. Sam realized Dean's feet were off the floor.

"Dean!" Sam fired into the shadow, it disappeared with a shriek and Dean dropped to the floor. Sam grabbed his brother and tossed him over is shoulder and sprinted out of the house. He laid Dean down in the lawn, frantically searching for a sign of life—finding none. "Dean, no, come on," he said, tears in his eyes. "Dean, please." When his brother coughed and dragged a ragged breath into his lungs, Sam pulled Dean into his arms and held him. Dean sighed and leaned into Sam, putting his arms around him.

"Sammy," he whispered against Sam's shoulder.

"It's okay," Sam said quietly. The words had the opposite effect. Dean pushed away from Sam as if he'd been burned. "Dean? What?" Dean shook his head and turned to go back into the house. Sam grabbed his arm. "No. Not tonight. We can come back tomorrow. It's the fifteenth, we'll worry about it then." Dean tried to pull away, but he was still unsteady, and Sam managed to drag him to the car and shove him into the passenger seat. "Wait," Sam snapped, hearing his father in his voice. He grabbed their guns from where he'd dropped them and tossed them into the trunk.

Dean was hunched against the door when Sam got in, arms wrapped tightly around his chest. "Dean? How badly are you hurt?"

Shrug.

"I need an answer, Dean," Sam snapped, aware of the growing anger in his voice as he drove them back towards the motel.

Shrug.

"Damn it, Dean." Sam pulled on hand off the steering wheel and reached for Dean, grabbing his wrist in a tight grip. He could feel Dean's pulse beating frantically against his thumb. "How bad?"

Shrug.

Sam ground his teeth together. "We're talking about this shit when we get back, Dean," he said, keeping his hand wrapped around Dean's wrist. He was waiting for Dean to try and pry his fingers free, to pull away, to hit him. Sam tensed when Dean put his hand over the one Sam had on his arm, ready to hold on till the wrist broke if necessary. Dean didn't try and move Sam's hand, he just laid his hand over Sam's, the thumb stroking Sam's wrist.

Sam risked a look. Dean was staring out the window, a single tear running down his cheek. "Dean?"

Shrug, head shake, Dean's hand tightened over his.

Sam sighed. The rest of the drive was silent, out of the corner of his eye he could see the tears still on Dean's face. When they got back to the motel, Dean waited for Sam to let go of his wrist, then slipped into the room. By the time Sam walked in, the bathroom door was closed and the shower was running. Sam tried the door, Dean hadn't locked it. He opened it, walked in and leaned against the sink.

"I wasn't going to say anything, Dean," he said, looking at his hands. "But I think I found another djinn." He looked at the shower curtain, his brother's shadow was completely still. "If you want to go back so bad, I won't stop you. I'd rather have that happen then watch you die bit by bit." Sam waited for a response, when one didn't come, he sighed and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Sam sank down on the bed and put his head in his hands, the anger gone, and suddenly at a complete loss. He sat there, trying to calm himself, trying to figure out a way to reach Dean. He sighed. Finally, he pushed himself up and headed down to the ice machine. He filled his ice bucket and stopped by the pop machine and got them both cokes. When he walked back into the room, he wasn't sure what it was that alerted him, just the vague sense something wasn't quite right. He walked to the bathroom and knocked on the door, getting no response he opened the door.

"Dean?" The room was cold. Sam walked to the shower and pulled the curtain aside. Dean was sitting in the tub, the water falling on his back. Sam reached in, the water was ice cold. "What the fuck?" Sam turned the water off and grabbed a towel off the rack. He pulled Dean to his feet and yanked him out of the tub, wrapping the towel around his shoulders as he shoved his brother towards the bed. Sam pulled the blankets down and bundled Dean into the bed. Dean was shivering violently. Sam kicked his shoes off and slid into bed beside Dean, pulling his brother against him.

Dean didn't resist the contact. He leaned against Sam, shaking, his teeth chattering. Sam put his arm over Dean's shoulders. "What the fuck is going on with you?" he asked, his voice harsh. Dean shook his head and pressed his face into Sam's shoulder. "Dean, please." He could hear the fear for Dean reflected in his voice. "Was the wish that good?" Dean shook his head again. "I know mom was alive, but you said we didn't even like each other very much. Do you really want to go back?" Sam was desperate, suddenly knowing what the loss of Dean would mean. He'd never faced it before, never really looked at it, never admitted it.

"I'm broken," Dean mumbled.

"What?" Sam tightened his arm on Dean's shoulders. "What?"

"I'm broken," Dean said, still with his head pressed against Sam's shoulder. "The wish…"

"Yeah?"

"I lied."

"What?" Sam asked softly, resting his head on Dean's. "Lied how?"

"The wish, Sam. I lied." Dean sighed, it sounded almost like a sob. "The djinn, he found something in me, something I wanted and granted it." Another sobbing sigh drifted up to Sam. "I'm broken, Sammy."

"Dean?" Sam's heart was pounding in his chest.

"When I woke up…"

"In your apartment?"

"Yeah. It wasn't like I told you, not at all. You weren't… I… You…"

"Dean? I can't understand," Sam said gently.

"You were there, Sam."

"I was? Why did you…?"

"I woke up, I felt safe, warm. I was in this soft bed, soft sheets—like those ones from the hotel we stayed at in Vegas? Remember?"

"Yeah. But Dean… How is this…? Why did you say you were…?"

"Broken?" Dean sighed, his shoulders trembling. "Because I woke up in your arms, Sam."

_SNSNSNSNS_

Dean held his breath, waiting for Sam to reply. His brother had frozen with Dean's last words, Dean was pretty sure Sam was holding his breath as well. He leaned against Sam, the shaking finally easing—at least the tremors from the cold. There was a shiver in his chest that had nothing to do with the cold, and everything to do with what he'd just said. "Sam?"

"So, your wish, Dean?" Sam's voice was quiet, almost a whisper. Dean felt Sam's lips move against his hair. "What was it? Tell me."

"Part of it was the same—mom was alive, dad wasn't, but it was okay. You were a teacher," Dean said quietly. "You'd left school after Jess died, but had gone back and finished a teaching degree. The first day, we were going out to celebrate you getting named new teacher of the year." Dean laughed softly, remembering the joy, the love he'd felt in those first moments. "And we were together."

"Together?" Sam's breath brushed against his hair, warming his neck.

"Yeah. And when I came back, I realized I had to be broken for wanting that. I'm so sorry, Sam." Dean sighed, feeling tears on his cheeks.

"You think that makes you broken?" Sam said gently, something in his voice caused a shiver to run down Dean's spine.

Dean nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Oh god, Dean." Sam sighed.

"I'll understand if you…"

"What?"

"I'm broken."

"Dean…" Sam huffed in exasperation. Dean held still, waiting for Sam to leave him, waiting for Sam to… "You're a fucking idiot, you know that?" There was no anger in Sam's words, just a gentle affection. Dean felt Sam's lips press against his hair.

"Sam?"

"Shut up," Sam whispered, pressing his lips against Dean's forehead.

"Sammy?" Dean said, pulling away a little.

"You just won't shut up will you? I'll have to fix that." Sam lifted Dean's chin, the next moment Sam's lips were on his, gentle, the touch of a butterfly's wings brushing his mouth.

"Sam?"

"Shut up." Sam let the kiss deepen, running his tongue over Dean's lips before gently invading his mouth. Dean pressed his hand flat against Sam's chest as Sam kissed him, letting him do it, still resisting the urge to give way. Sam pulled back a little. "It was a perfect wish, Dean."

Dean opened his eyes and met Sam's. "It was?"

Sam leaned forward so his lips were on Dean's. "Yes," he said against his mouth. One large hand clasped the back of Dean's head and Sam started kissing him again, his tongue sliding into Dean's mouth, probing gently, encouraging Dean to commit.

With a groan, Dean gave in, he ran his hand up Sam's neck and through his hair, marveling at the soft texture under his fingers as he gave himself completely to the kiss. Their tongues wound around each other, the kiss deepening until Dean groaned. Sam shifted, pulling his mouth off Dean's and gently trailed kisses down his neck, stopping to lick at the hollow in Dean's throat. Dean slid his hands down Sam's body, tugging at the t-shirt.

"No," Sam whispered, his lips moving against Dean's neck. "I've waited for too long to hurry." Even so, he pulled away long enough to pull his t-shirt off. He paused, looking at Dean through eyes already dilated by passion, then with a smile, stood long enough to pull off his jeans and boxers. "Saves time later," he said, settling back on the bed and taking Dean's face between his hands, his thumbs gently stroking Dean's cheeks. Sam smiled and leaned forward to nibble at Dean's bottom lip, one hand shifting up to run through Dean's hair.

Dean let his tongue slide along Sam's lips as Sam nipped at his. Finally, with a groan, Sam crushed his mouth against Dean's again, demanding entry, Dean willingly giving it. Sam could kiss. Dean always thought of himself as a good kisser, but what Sam was doing to his mouth was making his toes tingle.

Sam stopped and let his head rest against Dean's chest as his hand strayed further. "Sam," Dean groaned as Sam's hand slid down gently stroking him. Dean felt Sam's smile against his chest, then Sam's mouth was back on his. Dean arched his back against Sam.

"Not yet," Sam said against his mouth

"Sam," he groaned.

Sam entered him gently, waiting as Dean's body adjusted, then he began to move, softly, until he owned Dean completely. Sam pulled away from his mouth. Dean opened his eyes, drinking in the sight of Sam completely lost in passion, eyes half closed, pupils blown so wide his eyes looked black. Dean groaned, the rhythm of his hips lost and he gave himself over to the moment. He heard Sam call his name and the pressure that had been building in Dean exploded outwards in a moment of perfection, pain and pleasure blending so perfectly that he was lost for a moment, shattered completely by the climax.

When he came back to himself, he was clasp in Sam's arms, his head resting on Sam's chest. He could hear Sam's heart beating, it was nearly in time with his own. "Sammy?" he whispered, hoping it wasn't a dream, dreading what might happen.

"Dean?" Sam said softly.

"I…"

"It would have been my wish too, Dean." Sam lifted Dean's face so he could see the truth of it in Sam's eyes. "It's been my wish for years."

"It has?"

"Yeah, I guess I'm broken, too." Sam smiled and planted a very gentle kiss on Dean's lips. "We can be broken together."

Dean swallowed, somehow denying a chick flick moment at this point seemed silly. "Yeah, Sammy. Together."

**The End**


End file.
